


The Shape of You

by Flamingbluepanda



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Corsetry, Dirty Talk, Geralt really loves the corset okay, Jaskier is a loud bottom, Loud Sex, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, corset porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamingbluepanda/pseuds/Flamingbluepanda
Summary: Jaskier had always had an affinity for women's clothing. Geralt learns the extent of it.(Or, Jaskier wears a corset. What happens next won't surprise you at all)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 21
Kudos: 1215
Collections: For Kimmy, Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	The Shape of You

**Author's Note:**

> I started watching the Witcher two days ago, on Saturday. I have not finished the witcher yet. If you asked me on Saturday what my first fic for this fandom was gonna be, I would've said a role swap au, or my artsy-fartsy reincarnation fic. 
> 
> Instead, it's this. its filthy, filthy corset porn. This is the fault of my buddies on the geraskier server and is therefore dedicated to them. 
> 
> Also, it's MLK day. I don't think this is what he dreamed about.

Jaskier had always had an affinity for women’s clothing. Soft silks, ruffled blouses with puffed sleeves, long tulle skirts that flicked around his ankles as he walked. 

And oh,  _ corsets.  _

Jaskier was unashamed to admit his own vanity, he knew that he had a trim waist and a more… womanly figure than most of his gender. He’d been about 6 when his sister had burst into his room and begged him to help her tie her first corset, and he’d been enchanted with them ever since. He hadn’t been allowed his own until he was 15- it was bad for a growing boy to crush his ribs, apparently- but the first time he wore one he  _ knew  _ he looked good in it. 

He’d worn them at every opportunity when he was younger, and he still kept a few folded neatly in his bag for special performances. He wasn’t an idiot, and never wore them while traveling on foot for long periods and  _ especially  _ not while hunting with Geralt. 

But today, he and Geralt were staying in town an extra day. They’d just gotten paid a hefty sum for a big job, and a snowstorm had just blown in. It had taken a bit of wheedling, and Jaskier would have to sing for all his meals, but Geralt, penny pincher that he was, had begrudgingly agreed to splurge for their room for an extra night. 

Excited by the prospect of a day off, Jaskier had slept through breakfast. When his hunger finally dragged him out of bed, he dug through his bag and pulled out his favorite [corset](https://i.imgur.com/y2Irq2m.jpg?1)\- steel boned, laced with black ribbon. It gave his waist more definition than anything he owned, and after he laced himself up he topped it off with a tight, dark shirt and tight pants. He gave himself an appreciative once over in the mirror before nodding, grabbing his lute, and sauntering down to the bar for a day of singing and drinking and general merriment. The inn was warm, the outside was cold, and they had nowhere to be. 

He plopped onto the bench across from Geralt, idly humming and tuning his lute, when he felt the burn of eyes on him. He glanced up at the Witcher, who was staring at him and looking… concerned.

“Something wrong? I can’t have anything on my face, I haven’t eaten yet. Oh dear, do I have a bedhead?” 

Jaskier reached up to run a worried hand through his hair, but Geralt surprised him and asked: “Have you been eating?” 

Jaskier blinked, confused, then laughed. “My dear, you must be losing your head in your old age. We take all our meals together, you would know if I hadn’t been eating.” 

Geralt grumbled, crossing his arms. “You’re too thin.” 

Jaskier blinked, then chuckled. Ah yes, Geralt had yet to see him in a corset. It was touching, knowing that the white wolf was worried about him. He opened his mouth to explain- then hesitated. Surely, Geralt knew of his… proclivities, but it was one thing to wear silks and take a Witcher’s cock (and oh, what a  _ cock-)  _ but it was another to be confronted with irrefutable proof that your traveling companion and bedmate was a bit more womanly than what was usual, even for a bard. 

Jaskier shook his head, forcing a laugh. “I’m fine. You know me, I could eat a whole lamb and not gain an ounce. Blessed by the gods I am!” 

He played a chord on his lute, humming.  _ “Blessed by the gods, oh blessed by the gods. Blessed by the gods is the town which graces the Witcher-“  _

“Jaskier.” Geralt interrupted, voice sharp. Jaskier sighed, rolling his eyes. In the same tone, he replied “Geralt.” 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Look, if you’re that concerned about my habits, you should let me begin! Good music brings good food, good food brings good ale, good ale brings good times!” 

And with that, Jaskier sprung to his feet, beginning to sing. He didn’t move about as much, knowing his singing would already be hampered by the corset, but his voice still came strong and steady. By the time he took a break for lunch, he was only a little exhausted, and he’d made more than enough for a good meal and a few drinks. 

Geralt watched him like a hawk while he ate, and Jaskier made a point of eating every crumb off his plate, just to prove a point. When he had nothing left, he sighed and waved for an ale. “Really Geralt, if you’re going to admire my beauty you could do it in a less predatory manner. You look like you want to eat me.” 

“You aren’t moving about, and your breathing is heavier.” The drinks arrived, and Geralt took a thick swig. “You aren’t getting sick? We don’t have the money for a decent healer.” 

“You know, your worrywart tendencies really are quite adorable,” Jaskier teased, propping his chin up on his palm. “If only the people knew that Geralt of Rivia had such a soft underbelly-“ 

Geralt growled, and Jaskier laughed, clambering to his feet to continue his set. 

He took one more break, ate his dinner, and sang until he was exhausted. Geralt had gone up to the room at some point during his final act, and Jaskier wished everyone well and followed him without buying any drinks for himself. 

Considering that he’d worn one of his hottest outfits, the fact that he’d been blatantly teasing him earlier, and the fact that Geralt had been drinking, he really should’ve  _ expected  _ to be tossed against the door as soon as it closed, but it surprised him anyhow. 

Geralt tasted of ale, and Jaskier moaned helplessly against his mouth. Geralt always ran warm, and his hands came to grip Jaskier’s hips as if they would burn through his clothes. 

“You’re a fucking  _ tease-“  _ Geralt rasped, and oh, Jaskier suddenly wished his pants weren’t quite so tight. 

Geralt took great pride in his ability to pick Jaskier up, and Jaskier  _ knew  _ it and made a low keening sound when Geralt tossed him on the bed, reaching to undo his belt. 

Geralt climbed on top of him, tugging up the shirt- 

And he froze, fingers stilling against the steel bone of his corset. 

Jaskier paled as Geralt frowned and pulled his shirt out of the way more deliberately, less for the sake of removal and more to see what was beneath it. Jaskier watched the Witcher’s face morph into an expression he couldn’t quite name, and he swallowed. 

“Geralt?” He finally managed. And Geralt’s voice was shaky as he rasped “what are you  _ wearing  _ and where did you  _ hide it.”  _

“It’s not my fault you never went my bags!” Jaskier snapped, suddenly defiant. “It’s a corset and if it’s a problem, then you can leave! Honestly, Geralt, don’t be small-minded, if you hate it that much then just  _ remove it-“  _

And suddenly Geralt’s mouth was on him, and his hands were pinning Jaskier to the bed in a bruising grip. 

“Don’t you  _ dare.”  _ Geralt snarled, and then he promptly tore Jaskier’s shirt off and oh, Geralt was going to  _ pay  _ for that as soon as he stopped doing maddeningly distracting things with that mouth of his. 

Jaskier whined as sharp teeth bit at his nipples, left hickeys along his ribs, and then Geralt started  _ licking,  _ starting nipping at every spot of visible flesh amongst the lines of his corset, and suddenly Jaskier’s breathing too fast for his contained diaphragm. A whole half-day of singing and  _ now  _ is when he struggled for breath.

Geralt just kept on going, sucking on the flesh of Jaskier’s stomach, deftly removing everything covering Jaskier’s lower half. 

“My pretty little lark,” Geralt hissed as Jaskier arched up into his touch, “my caged songbird, look at you, all trussed up for me-“ 

Jaskier whined again, louder, arching and pressing his groin against Geralt’s. He could feel the Witcher’s large dick pressing into the hollow between his own cock and thigh, and he realized that Geralt was still wearing pants. 

Jaskier whined once more, a different pitch to it, and Geralt chuckled lowly, coming up to nibble at his ear and whisper “use your words, my dear bard. What do you want?” 

Jaskier gasped for air, already feeling tears form in his eyes. He could  _ not  _ take Geralt’s usual teasing tonight, not when he was already so turned on that he thought he might explode. 

Geralt kissed along the curve of his jaw. “Words, Jaskier. I’ll stop if you don’t tell me what you want.” 

And of all things, it’s the fear of Geralt  _ not touching him  _ that sparked Jaskier’s brain back into hyperdrive. 

“Please,” he babbled “please please  _ please  _ Geralt, please fuck me, fuck me fuck me  _ fuck me please-“  _

“I’ll fuck you alright,” Geralt snarled, removing his pants and reaching for the oil they’d left on the bedside table. “I’ll fuck you until you scream. Let this whole town knows who you belong to. Then I’ll keep going until you can’t  _ breathe-“  _

Jaskier  _ whimpered,  _ and Geralt bit down hard on Jaskier’s neck. Despite the heat of his body, Geralt had  _ freezing  _ fingers and Jaskier yelped when they pressed against his entrance, slick with oil. They did this so regularly that Geralt started with two, scissoring them roughly. Jaskier groaned and rolled his hips, trying his best to buck down onto them. His whole body was being crushed to the bed by Geralt, and his ribs were so confined that he started to see spots as his eyes blurred with breathless tears. 

“Geralt-“ he managed to rasp-  _ “please-“ _

Geralt grunted lowly, not unaffected by what they were doing either if the sweat on his brow and harshness of his breathing were anything to go by. “It’ll hurt.” 

For a split second, Jaskier was touched at the other man’s concern, and then Geralt’s fingers brushed his prostate and he  _ howled,  _ bucking his hips frantically.  _ “Please please please-!” _

Geralt growled lowly and removed his fingers, shifting onto his knees between Jaskier’s legs and bending him in half. Jaskier grabbed his own thighs, clinging to them like they could keep him attached to the earth when Geralt fucked him into the heavens. 

Geralt entered him in one smooth motion that felt like it ripped Jaskier in two, and sure enough, he  _ screamed,  _ toes curling as he choked on cries of  _ “yes yes yes yes yes-“  _

Geralt wasted no time, snapping his hips forward and back as he grabbed at Jaskier’s corset, clenching his fingers in the ribbons and using it like reins on a goddamn  _ horse _ . Jaskier shrieked again, enthusiastically trying to squirm, to get some sort of friction on his cock. 

Only then Geralt grabbed his sides and  _ squeezed  _ and Jaskier had  _ no air.  _ His mouth opened in a silent gasp, and his vision whited out. He came back to his body when he realized Geralt had  _ slowed down,  _ and he snapped his eyes open, taking in Geralt’s concerned face and catching just enough breath to snarl  _ “again.” _

Geralt’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then they darkened, and his hands clenched down again, pulling the corset tight and constructing his lungs. Jaskier gasped for air and it was so good, so  _ good-  _

He felt spittle fly out of his gasping mouth, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and he loved it, he loved that the bed was squeaking beneath their weight and that the headboard was banging against the wall. 

Geralt squeezed tighter, constricted him more, fucked him harder and this time when his world shrunk down to nothing except the breathlessness, Geralt only moved quicker, and Jaskier had just enough air to let out a final banshee shriek as he flew apart at the seams, coming completely untouched. 

Geralt didn’t stop moving, going faster, harder, clenching his hands in the sheets and grunting, head bowed and jaw clenched. Geralt fucked like an animal, and Jaskier had no energy left, but he managed an appreciative moan and tried his best to  _ squeeze-  _

Geralt grunted breathlessly, moving faster faster  _ faster-  _

He came with a roar, and Jaskier went limp, exhausted and sated and proud. It always took so much  _ work  _ to bring off his Witcher, but oh, was the look in his eye worth it. 

Geralt collapsed atop him, dick softening in Jaskier’s ass, and this time the corset dug uncomfortably into his chest. He winced, nudging the larger man’s shoulder. Geralt snaked an arm under Jaskier and rolled them over, pulling out and laying the bard on his chest in one fluid motion. 

Jaskier pushed through the exhaustion to reach behind himself, tugging at the knot of ribbon at the base of his spine until it came loose. He let out a deep sigh as he was able to breathe fully again, and tugged it off, folding it delicately and placing it on the rug next to the bed. 

He felt Geralt brush his fingers over his side and glanced down, blinking slowly at the bruises left by the steel bones of the corset. He frowned, then glanced over at the corset on the ground. He hadn’t noticed any damage but…

“That one’s my favorite, if it’s ruined you’re paying to repair it.” He muttered, and Geralt blinked, then snorted. “Typical bard, more worried about his clothing than his own health.”

“I’m fine,” Jaskier rolled his eyes, laying down once more with his chin resting on Geralt’s sternum. “And if I’d known you’d react so…  _ viscerally  _ I would’ve brought out the corset sooner.”

“I had no idea you wore them,” Geralt marveled, and Jaskier shrugged, exhaustion seeping through every inch of his being. “I don’t usually. It isn’t exactly good form to sing while constricted, not to mention fighting beasts. But I love the feel of it when I get the chance.” 

Geralt chuckled and brushed a hand through Jaskier’s hair, making a noise deep in his chest that was akin to a pure. “I should buy you some more. Something a bit more dainty, to accent those fair features.” 

“You should see me in a skirt,” Jaskier leaned forward to kiss Geralt on the cheekbone “however, all the talk of such things will have to wait until the morning. We’re heading out, so you’ll need your rest. And I’ll need mine, for when I attempt to murder you for destroying my shirt.

Geralt chuckled again, and Jaskier frowned, yawning. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, I’m very serious. Come daybreak I will destroy you.” 

“Of that, I have no doubt, my love.” A warm kiss was pressed to his forehead. “Sleep.” 

Jaskier did, and if his dreams were filled with images of him, laying on silken sheets in a big house somewhere, corseted and awaiting the return of his witcher, that was no one's business but his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr www.flamingbluepanda.tumblr.com and if you liked this, check the rest of this series for more porn by me, an asexual. 
> 
> See ya around, happy birthday to Dr. King and Deforest Kelly.


End file.
